


Robin Hood Time, Babey!

by skuxie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuxie/pseuds/skuxie
Summary: ran out of steam and my head hurts, wahoo!
Kudos: 2





	Robin Hood Time, Babey!

Adrenaline pumping, short breath, heart racing, and weaving through twisted trees and bushes. There were three--No, four!-- King’s guards hot on his tail. It was just the way he liked it. Bel’ves grinned to himself. The guards were fast—they always were— but their heavy armor clunked and groaned in protest with every step, making it difficult for them to keep up with him. He didn’t need to look back to confirm he still had a good distance between them, but he couldn’t resist. He had taken to calling the king’s guards “ducklings” from the way they ran—or rather... _waddled_ — in their bulky armor. Bel’ves stifled a laugh before a crossbow bolt whizzed past his head, a bit too close for comfort. The armor slowed down the guards, but not their weapons. His grin fell and he focused up on the path ahead of him.

Two more bolts whizzed past him, one cutting through the fabric that whipped and danced around him as he ran, and the other whining past his ear. Bel’ves swallowed hard. It was only a matter of time before the bolts stopped missing their target. He needed a place to hide. Fast. Luckily, he was a man who never entered a situation without an escape plan. Three trees up ahead were close together; much closer than the rest of the trees in the thicket. The center tree bore a black scar down its trunk. One more glance over his shoulder. Fifty feet of distance. It would have to do. 

Another bolt whizzed through the air, this time striking the half-elf in the arm and slicing a deep wound from wrist to elbow. Bel’ves choked back a yelp of pain, and pressed the injury against his chest in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. The pain was white hot, and getting worse, but he couldn’t let it stop him. The trees were getting closer, and he needed to prepare for a quick disappearing act. Using his unharmed hand, Bel’ves plucked a smooth, turquoise-colored stone from the pouch at his waist that bounced against his leg as he ran. He held it in front of himself at the scarred tree, like an offering to whatever spirits inhabited the forest. The stone cooled instantly, and the tree split open at the scar. The half-elf held his breath, and dove inside. The scar sealed up behind him as quickly as it had opened, and Bel fell through the sudden darkness, leaving the guards-- and his capture-- behind him. Another victory for the thief.

A pile of worn clothing broke the man’s fall. The landing was his least favorite part of the escape, but this particular landing jostled him and sent another jolt of pain through his injured arm. A few elvish curse words escaped his lips before he forced himself to his feet, “ _Jukkete_ _tel'quiet_...” Bel took a look at the gash in his arm, assessing the damage as well as he could in the tunnel he had found himself in; there were only a few glowing orbs to light the dark space. The cut was deep, and there was a lot of blood soaking into his sleeve. He was in no position to treat the wound in the cramped tunnel, and simply finished tearing the fabric the bolt had pierced through, fashioning it into a makeshift bandage.

Without the access stone, the king’s guards had no way of reaching him. He was safe for now, and the adrenaline started to die down, and a combination of exhaustion and pain took over his body. He may have gotten away, but it was too narrow of an escape for his liking. Repeat offenses against the royal treasury had forced the king to boost his security measures. Cat burglary was no fun without a challenge, but it was certainly even less fun if the guards caught him. Bel pondered the idea of moving on to the next city as he travelled through the tunnel. He never stayed in one place for too long— his heart sought glory and adventure and couldn’t be tied down to one place— but he had gotten comfortable with his current set up. That comfort was almost enough to keep him from moving on, but the the painful, bloody reminder that was the gash down his arm was more than enough to 

After half an hour of walking, the tunnel pinched off and eventually stopped. Four rose-colored orbs illuminated a wooden ladder that led to nothing but the earthen ceiling of the tunnel. With a flourish of his hand and a few words muttered under his breath, the stone cooled again, and the rose orbs lazily bobbed up towards the top of the ladder before imbedding themselves into the dirt and stone. Tendrils of light curled out until a circle was formed in the ceiling of the tunnel. Bel’ves began climbing the ladder until his head disappeared through the ceiling in the center of the circle.  
  


\--------------------------

A cloth covered head popped through old floorboards, two gloved hands following behind. Bel’ves hoisted himself _through_ the floor; which seemed nothing more than an illusion. He struggled somewhat-- an injury hastily wrapped in makeshift bandages slowing his ascent— but he eventually rolled out onto the wooden floor. Bel’ves sighed and lay there for a few minutes— exhaustion and the come-down of adrenaline tempting him into a nap on the floor— but the searing pain in his arm kept him up.

He sat up, squinting at the dresser across the room. The top shelf lay empty aside from two small vials filled with a deep green liquid, and one bottle filled with a shimmering golf substance. No health poultices. He would have to make a trip to the market; maybe even make the rounds and say his goodbyes before skipping town. The time had come.

The half-elf groaned, waving the access stone over the spot he had come through the floor. He the enchantment and the illusion sealed into solid flooring once again. He lazily peeled the dark shroud and leather armor from his body and tossed it to the floor at the end of his bed.

The half-elf groaned, waving the access stone over the spot he had come through the floor. He spoke the enchantment and the illusion sealed into solid flooring once again. He peeled the dark shroud and leather armor from his body and tossed it to the floor at the end of his bed, replacing it with a loose, white shirt and black high waisted pants. He walked over to the vanity mirror and began preening himself, making sure that he was presentable to the public. The makeshift bandages were replaced with fresh, clean ones. His face, his hair, his clothes— everything had to be perfect. He was always a sucker for presentation, and he added the final touches; gold earrings, necklaces, rings, and bracelets that shimmered in the beams of sunlight coming through the windows. He gave his reflection a wink, grabbed the small bag he had brought back from his trip to the castle, and headed out towards the market. 

* * *

The market was bustling with life, the scents of freshly baked goods and the sound of music filled the air. The shouts of shopkeepers advertising their wares and the laughter of adults and children alike could be heard all around. This small town had a tight knit community, and the energy that ran through the marketplace and town square was infectious. It was difficult to not feel at home. Bel’ves sighed. It was bittersweet, feeling the cosy nature of the farmer’s market that he had grown to love, yet knowing that he would likely be saying his last goodbyes to the town that night.

The Freefaire Market sign was always decorated with all types of flowers, contributed by the townsfolk in a symbol of community coming together to create a work of beauty. Bel’ves passed under the sign, inhaling the floral scents for the last time. A sense of melancholy washed over him as he approached the lively market center. It was so easy to leave people behind; to gain their affections and move on to chase the affections of fresh faces. But this town was different. Living with a retired adventurer who offered up her secret passage for an easy escape. The townsfolk who treated him not only like their hero, but like family. Freefaire was teeming with life and culture, despite the hardships its citizens faced. But those things had made him too comfortable. He had gotten sloppy and the king’s guards presented more and more of a threat every day. 

“Bel!” A voice snapped the half-elf out of his thoughts. An elderly half-orc woman looked at Bel’ves from behind a market stall, her face crinkling pleasantly in a smile.

“Awldra!” Bel’ves cooed, starting towards her stall. “How has your day treated you, my fine lady? Sold any of your wares today?”

Awldra gave a loud, hearty laugh. “Of course! You know how often adventurers come through our market!”

“Ah, adventurers.” Bel’ves chuckled. “Do they make you miss it?” 

The half-orc’s eyes went wide in mock-offense and she shook her head dramatically. “Oh GODS, no. Adventurers are fools, they’ll pay fifty gold for an old necklace I bought second hand simply because I tell them it’s enchanted.”

Bel’ves grinned, “You were never that foolish, I’m sure.”

“Never! That’s why we always made it back in one piece.” The pair laughed together for a second, then Awldra-- always the business woman-- raised a brow at the half-elf. “Anyway, what brings the great Bel’ves Aegreth to my humble shop? I know you’re already wearing an entire jewelry shop on your person, but can I interest you in this necklace?” She gestured to a tarnished golden necklace with a cracked, blue pendant. “It’s enchanted! It’ll make hair grow on the chest of even the most bare elf!--” Her eyes fell upon his open shirt for a split second. “--Damn half-elves…” 

Bel’ves chuckled. “Oh Awldy, I’m going to miss your charming shopkeep act.”

Awldra’s smile fell at her companion’s words. “What do you mean? You’re not leaving, are you?”

The man smiled sadly, raising his bandaged arm for her to see. “It’s time for me to move on.” Awldra grimaced at the sight of the bloody cloth. “I was actually coming through the market to find a health poultice, say some final goodbyes, and give you some things.”

“You idiot! What am I going to do without my pet peacock living below me?” Awldra demanded, only getting a quiet laugh in response. She sighed, crouching down to pull more inventory from a shelf beneath the table. “Well, don’t worry about searching around for something for that arm of yours. This shit I have on display is only for the adventurers. You _know_ I have good stock for you-- and anyone else from this town.” She stood back up, placing three bottles holding a red liquid on the table, as well as a shiny golden ring. “Drink up.” She slid one of the bottles across the tabletop towards her friend. He caught it, popped open the cork, and took a swig. The gash down his arm slowly, and magically began to seal up. He unraveled the bandage from his arm, careful not to get any of the wet blood on his pristine, white shirt.

“You’re a lifesaver, Awldy. What am I going to do without you?” 

“Die, probably.”

Bel’ves’ lips curled into a sorrowful smile. “Probably.” Reaching into the pouches at his side, he placed his own offerings on the table; a small bag of gemstones and gold coins, and the turquoise stone he had used earlier. “I appreciate your help and your friendship very, very much.” He pointed one ringed finger at the access stone, “This beauty sure made things easy… A little _too_ easy.” He chuckled. “You damn adventurers and your tricks. You’re missing the fun of a job the old fashioned way.” He then pointed at the bag. “A few…. _donations_ from the king’s treasury.” The words were followed by a wink. 

Awldra returned the wink. “You are a real piece of work, Bel’ves. I’ll miss you.” She plucked the ring off the table and held it out to the half-elf man. “For you.” Bel’ves took the ring, placing it on his left ring finger and admiring the way it sparkled. “Pull the hinge at the bottom.” Awldra instructed. He did so, and a row of golden feathers, each adorned with a small blue sapphire, flared out from the ring. 

“Heh… A peacock.” Bel’ves ran his finger over the ring, admiring the intricate carvings and craftsmanship.

“The only creature that I know that can compete with the ostentatious Bel’ves Aegreth.”

The pair laughed together one final time. The laughter turned to somber sighs full of finality and acceptance. Bel'ves took the rest of the bottles, and continued on; on to say his goodbyes, and on to some place new. The faces he found friendship in would always quickly be replaced by others, and those faces would be replaced by others. His journey was never ending. Always chasing some unattainable feeling of satisfaction, he was always moving. He walked further into the market; in the direction of the setting sun-- In the direction of an uncertain future. He liked it that way.

  
  



End file.
